CHAPTER II.
THE END OF THE SUMMER.
"Oh, the sun shines bright on my old Kentucky home, 'Tis summer, the darkies are gay, The corn-top's ripe and the meadows are in bloom, And the birds make music all the day."
IT was Malcolm who started the old tune, thrumming a soft accompanimenton his banjo, as he sat leaning against one of the great white pillarsof the vine-covered porch. Then Betty, swinging in a hammock with a new_St. Nicholas_ in her lap, began to hum with him. Rob Moore, sitting onthe step below, took it up next, whistling it softly, but the LittleColonel and Keith went on talking.
It was a warm September afternoon, and all down the long avenue of giantlocust-trees there was scarcely a leaf astir. Keith fanned himself withhis hat as he talked.
"I wish schools had never been invented," he exclaimed, "or else therewas a law that they couldn't begin until cold weather. It makes me wildwhen I think of having to go back to Louisville to-morrow and beginlessons in that hot old town. Lloyd, I don't believe that you are halfthankful enough for being able to live in the country all the yearround."
"But it isn't half so nice out heah aftah you all leave," answered theLittle Colonel. "You don't know how lonesome the Valley is with you allgone. I can't beah to pass Judge Moore's place for weeks aftah the houseis closed for the season. It makes me feel as if somebody's dead when Isee every window shut and all the blinds down. When Betty goes home nextweek I don't know how I shall stand it to be all by myself. This hasbeen such a lovely summah."
"We've had some jolly good times, that's a fact," answered Keith with asigh, to think that they were so nearly over. Then beating time with hisfoot to the music of Malcolm's banjo, he began to sing with the others:
"'Oh, weep no more, my lady, weep no more to-day. We will sing one song for my old Kentucky home, For my old Kentucky home far away.'"
Something in the mournful melody, coupled with the thought that this wasthe end of the summer, and the last of such visits to beautiful oldLocust for many a long day, touched each face with a little shade ofsadness. For several minutes after the last note of the song died awayno one spoke. The only sounds were the bird-calls, and the voices of thecook's grandchildren, who were playing on the other side of the house.
As in many old Southern mansions, the kitchen at Locust was a room somedistance back from the house. In the path that led from one to theother, three little darkies were romping and tumbling over each otherlike three black kittens.
Fat old Aunt Cindy, waddling into the pantry to flour-bin orsugar-barrel, glanced at them occasionally through the open window tosee that they were in no mischief, and then went calmly on with herbaking. She knew that they were not like white children who need a nurseto watch every step. They had taken care of themselves and each otherfrom the time that they had learned to crawl.
In Aunt Cindy's slow journeys around the kitchen, she stopped from timeto time to open the oven door and peep in. Finally she flung it wideopen, and, with a satisfied grunt, took out a big square pan. A warmdelicious odour filled the kitchen, and floated out around the house tothe group on the porch.
"I smell gingerbread!" exclaimed Rob, starting up and sniffing the airexcitedly with his short freckled nose.
"Me too!" exclaimed Keith. "It's the best thing I ever smelled in mylife. Doesn't it make you hungry?"
"Fairly starved!" answered Malcolm.
Lloyd tiptoed to the end of the porch and listened. "If Aunt Cindy'ssingin' one of her old camp-meetin' tunes then I'd know she was feelin'good, and I wouldn't mind tellin' her that we wanted the whole pan full.But if she happened to be in one of her black tempahs I wouldn't da'hask for a crumb. She always grumbles if she has to cut a cake while it'shot. She says it spoils them. No, she isn't singin' a note."
"Somebody might slip it out while she isn't looking," suggested Rob."I'd offer to try, but Aunt Cindy seems to have a grudge against me. Shecracked me over the head one day with a gourd dipper, because I spilledmolasses on the pantry floor. We wanted to make some candy, and Lloydsent me in through the window to get it. I dropped the jug, and AuntCindy charged at me so furiously that I went out of that window a sightfaster than I came in. Whew! I can feel that whack yet!" he added,screwing up his face, and rubbing his head. "You'd better believe I'vekept out of her reach ever since."
"I'll tell you what let's do," suggested Keith, growing hungrier everyminute as he snuffed that tantalising fragrance. "Let's play that AuntCindy is an ogre, a dreadful old fat black ogre, and the gingerbread issome kind of a magic cake that will break the spell she has cast overus, if we can only manage to get it and eat some."
"Oh, yes," agreed Rob, eagerly. "Don't you remember the story that Joyceused to tell us about the Giant Scissors that could do anything theywere bidden, if the command were only given in rhyme? Whoever rescuesthe cake will be the magic Scissors. We can draw lots to see who will beit. Make up a rhyme somebody."
"Giant Scissahs, so bewitchin', Get the cake out of the kitchen!"
ventured the Little Colonel after a moment's thought.
"Giant Scissors, for our sake Will you please to take the cake."
added Malcolm, while Betty followed with the suggestion:
"Giant Scissors, rush ahead And bring us back the gingerbread."
"That's the best one," said Rob, "for that calls the article that we'restarving for by name. Now we'll draw lots and see who has to play thepart of the Scissors and storm old Gruffanuff's castle."
Carefully arranging five blades of grass between his thumbs, he passedaround the circle, saying, "The one who draws the shortest piece has tobe 'it.'" There was a shout from all the others and a groan from himselfwhen he discovered that the shortest piece had been left between his ownthumbs.
"I'll have to put on my thinking cap and plan some way to get it bystrategy," he exclaimed, dropping down on the steps again to consider."I wouldn't brave Aunt Cindy in single combat any more than I'd beard alion in his den. Help me think of something, all of you."
Just then the three little pickaninnies, who had been playing in thepath by the kitchen door, ran around the corner of the porch in hotpursuit of a grasshopper.
"Here, Pearline," called Rob, beckoning to the largest and blackest ofthem. The child stopped and came slowly toward him. Her head, with itstight little braids of wool sticking out in all directions like tails,was tipped shyly to one side. One finger was in her mouth. With theother hand she was nervously plucking at the skirt of her red calicodress.
"What's your gran'mammy doing now?" inquired Rob.
"Beatin' aigs in de kitchen." Pearline was wriggling and screwing herlittle black toes around in the dust as she answered, almost overcomewith embarrassment.
"Pearline," said Rob, lowering his voice impressively, "do you thinkthat you could slip into the kitchen as e-easy as a creep-mouse andtiptoe into the pantry behind your gran'mammy's back and pass that panof gingerbread out through the window to me while she isn't looking?I'll give you a nickel if you'll try."
Pearline gave a swift inquiring look toward the Little Colonel, andseeing her nod consent, she turned to Rob with a delighted flash ofwhite teeth and eye-balls.
"Yessa, Mist Rob. I kin do it if you'll come whilst she's makin' aracket beatin' aigs. But she'll bus' my haid open suah, if she cotchme."
"Mothah doesn't care if we have the gingahbread," said the LittleColonel, and Rob added, reassuringly, "We won't let her touch you. NowI'm going all the way around by the spring-house, so she can't see me,for I'm her sworn enemy. When I get under the pantry window I'll calllike some bird--say a pewee. When you hear that, Pearline, you just comea-jumping. She always sets the things out on that shelf under the pantrywindow to cool, and you slip in and pass that gingerbread out to mebefore she has time to guess what's happened."
Rob started off, and a moment later the clear call of "pewee" floated upfrom under the pantry window, to the waiting group on the porch. "Comeon, let's see the og
re get him," called Keith. Just as they rushedaround the corner of the house they heard a scream, and then a mightyclatter of falling tinware in the kitchen made them pause.
There was a scurry of flying feet through the orchard, and a snapping ofdry twigs. Rob had made his escape with the gingerbread, but haplessPearline had fallen into the clutches of the ogre. Only for a moment,however. Through the window came a flash of red calico, and up the pathtwo bare black legs went flying like run-away windmills. The broadslap-slap of Aunt Cindy's pursuing slipper soles followed, but it was anuneven race. Pearline, wasting not a single breath in outcry, fledaround the house and down the avenue like a swift black shadow, and herpanting pursuer was left to hold her fat sides in helpless wrath.
"Just you wait till I get my hands on you, chile," she called with anangry toss of her white-turbaned head. "I'll make you sma't! I'll learnyou to come carryin' off white folkses vittles an' scarin' me out of myseven senses!"
"No, Aunt Cindy, you sha'n't touch her! You mustn't do a thing toPearline," called the Little Colonel, meeting her squarely in the pathand stamping her foot. "It's all ou' fault, because we sent her, and itwas Rob who carried off the gingahbread. There he comes now."
Aunt Cindy darted an angry look at her sworn enemy, as he came up withhands and mouth both full. Then facing the children, with her hands onher hips, she launched into such a scolding as only an old black mammy,who has faithfully served three generations of a family, is permitted togive.
"For mercy sakes, Aunt Cindy, what are you making such a fuss for?"exclaimed Keith. "It's all your own fault. You know as well as we dothat nobody in the Valley can make cake as good as yours. You oughtn'tto have tempted us with such delicious gingerbread. It's the best I evertasted." Here he stuffed his mouth full again, with an ecstatic "_Yum_,but that's good," and passed the plate back to Betty.
There was no resisting the flattery of Keith's expression as heswallowed the stolen sweets. A grim smile twitched Aunt Cindy's blackface, but to hide the fact that her vanity had been touched by thechorus of unstinted praise which followed Keith's compliments, she beganflapping her face with her gingham apron.
"Oh, you go 'long!" she exclaimed, in a gruff voice. But knowing AuntCindy, they knew that they had appeased her, and even Pearline need nolonger fear her wrath, although she grumbled loudly all the way back toher savoury kitchen.
They carried the plate around to the porch, followed by the three Bobsin their big bows of yellow, pink, and green, who tumbled around theirfeet, begging for crumbs until the last one was eaten, and then curledup in the hammock beside Betty.
"I wonder what we'll be doing ten years from now," said Malcolm, as hepicked up his banjo again and began striking soft chords. He was lookingdreamily down the long locust avenue where the afternoon shadows werelengthening across the lawn.
"I'll be through college by that time, and Rob and Keith will bestarting back for their junior year. You girls will be out in societyprobably, and old Aunt Cindy will surely be dead and gone. I wonder ifwe'll ever sit here together again and talk about old times and laughover this afternoon--the way Pearline flew through that window. Wasn'tit funny?"
"I am more interested in what I may be doing ten weeks from now," saidBetty. "I haven't an idea whether I'll be in London or Paris or theBlack Forest. I don't know where Cousin Carl expects to take us first.But I'd rather not know. The whole trip is sure to be full of delightfulsurprises as a fruit-cake is of goodies. I'd rather happen on them asthey come, than crumble it up to find what there'll be ten bites ahead."
"Well, I know what I'll be doing," said the Little Colonel, decidedly."School begins then, and it will be the same old things ovah and ovahagain. Music lessons, practice an' school; school an' practice an' musiclessons. Oh, I know what is ahead of me. All plain cake without a singleplum in it."
"Don't be so sure of that, little daughter," said a pleasant voice inthe doorway, and looking up, they saw Mrs. Sherman standing there withan open letter in her hand. "We can never be sure of our to-morrows, oreven our to-days, and here is a surprise for you to begin with, Lloyd."
Malcolm sprang up to bring her a chair, and Lloyd tumbled the Bobs outof the hammock that she might take their place beside Betty, while shelistened to the reading of the letter.
"It is from Mrs. Appleton--from your Cousin Hetty," began Mrs. Sherman,turning to Betty. "I wrote her that you wanted to go back to the farm alittle while before starting abroad with Eugenia and her father, andthis is her answer. She has invited Lloyd and me to go with you for ashort visit."
"Oh, godmother! And you'll go?" cried Betty, nearly spilling Lloyd outof the hammock as she sprang up in joyful surprise. "You don't know howI've dreaded leaving you and dear old Locust. It will not be half sohard if you can go with me, and I want you both to see Davy and all theplaces I've talked about so often."
"But how can I miss school, mothah?" cried the Little Colonel. "I'llfall behind in all my classes."
"Not so far but that you can make it up afterward by a little extrastudy. Besides, you will be going to school every day that you are away.I don't mean the kind you are thinking of," she hastened to say, seeingthe look of wonder in Lloyd's eyes. "But every day will be a school dayand you'll learn more of some things than all your books can teach you.There are all sorts of lessons waiting for you in the Cuckoo's Nest."
Lloyd and Betty gave each other a delighted hug while Rob remarked,mournfully, "I wish my father and mother wanted me to have some schooldays that are all holidays. Think of it, boys, not a line of Latin."
The five o'clock train came rumbling down the track with a shrillwarning whistle, as it passed the entrance gate at Locust.
"It is time to go, Keith," exclaimed Malcolm. "You know we promisedgrandmother and Aunt Allison to be back at half-past five. We must saygood-bye now, for ten whole months."
"It will be longer than that for me," said Betty, wistfully, as the boyscame up to shake hands. "There is no telling what will happen with theocean between us. But no matter where I go, I'll never forget how lovelyyou have all been to me this summer, and I'll always think of this asthe dearest spot on earth,--my old Kentucky home."
They watched the three boys go strolling off down the avenue, shoulderto shoulder, feeling that all the good times were disappearing withthem. Then they fell to talking of the Cuckoo's Nest, and making plansfor their visit. But what happened there must wait to be told at thesecond bubbling of the caldron and another ringing of the bells.
The Little Colonel's Holidays Page 5